basking in the goodwill glow.....

ok, so when one does the usual round of goodwills....the haul can range from empty-handed to memorable.....and this evening, as we drove up to the poetry reading at black swan books on maxwell.....i had a notion that i would find the black wooly blazer that i already own in brown.....in my size.....and gosh darn if it wasn;t waiting for me on clay's mill road.....omg.....i just love this blazer.....with khakis, with jeans...for days when it is too warm for a traditional coat, and too cold for....well, you get the picture..the beaumont plaza goodwill was a bust...one can sense this sometimes when walking in the door.....and this evening the feeling of doom was palpable...as the staff had rearranged the sections and the clientele was in collective shock..... i did spend money on 2 pairs of fantasy pants.....a raw ombre pair of silk party pants and a pink silk check pair of summer pedal pushers...both with tags....an omen that i should have heeded...the original buyer(s) never found the right occassion(s)...and while these pants may languish in my closet for a few seasons, i will invest the tacit hopefullness in the purchase that came with the tags.....but i digress from the black wooly blazer...i had to stop the clerk from shoving it into the plastic bag.....and i immediately stowed my grey fleece vest in the trunk and transformed myself from casual matron into serious poetry-reading maven in an instant....the reading was serviceable.....hard to beat billy collins as a showman,and this reading was so informal that the poet (aka-my eldest child's independent study advisor) introduced herself.....her work has merit, and i will enjoy rereading the selections she read..one poem entitled my two daughters walking in a paris park...or somesuch.....i immediately read as my two sons walking in a paris park.....and my mind strayed to a summer's day in the bois, or the luxembourg, or monceau ( a park i may still visit...) not me in the park, but mes fils..chatting conspiratorily without a care in the world.......the second author, a story-teller, did not bring books to sell....which forced me to search on-line for copies of her woodford county memoir...as both poet and storyteller were from woodford county, the audience appeared to be from the versailles area.....the well-dressed lady to our right was either ben chandler's mother or aunt from the conversation she was having with...the lawyer from versailles.....but i digress again from the storyteller..who related a tale an unusually hot summer day when her aunt and her housekeeper were at odds about the aunt going to a bridge party in a dress too snug for such an afternoon, and about how the aunt tried to remedy the situation by putting on her pink panty girdle ...and the story was interwoven with commentary on women who really only dress up for their friends because their spouses couldn't care less about baby blue linen sheathes....the story was....precious...the concept of precious literature has already been dissected enough in this space earlier in the fall......curiously her work reminded me of a blog taken to the next level.......a level that i may have to reach one day when i take the time to develop my thoughts before i spray them into cyberspace......though i have no need to be precious...ascerbic, yes...precious never........